TWD:Hakima 3 The Woodbury Illusion
by Javamonsoon
Summary: Hakima meets an old friend and teams up with him. They find themselves in a place that could be safe and where they could have a normal life. Hakima is presented with life-changing proposals.., and Hakima starts to think that settling down might be a good idea. M as usual. If you think you're M-material, I won't stop you.
1. Tell tail ass-sway

**1**

The only victim of the camp that Hakima had burried was Audrey. Hakima didn't really know why she had done that. For the three days she had been with Audrey they had merely been trying to get a read on eachother. Afteral, when one would look secly at it, Hakima and Audrey were strangers who had acted on first attraction. Hakima had searched for feelings when she stood at the closed grave, but burrying Audrey had been a rather emotionless affair, unlike the tears Hakima had shed over Emily's grave.

Now, a day's walking away from the sacked camp, Hakima couldn't say that she missed Audrey. Maybe the time she had spent with the girl had just been too short to have deep emotions over the girl's passing. It was just that Hakima had at least expected to be sad when she looked at Audrey's grave for the last time.

Hakima had taken a last shower in the Irvings' RV and was now wearing low-rider bell-bottoms and a red tankie. To her delight, she had found a card of fresh lady-razors in the RV too. Clean and shaven, Hakima felt worthy to worship again and for the first time in a long time, she turned to Meccah to prey before Allah. It had been profound and emotional as after her prayers, Hakima just started to talk about everything that came to mind. And when she was done, Hakima was lifted of most of her burdens. Hakima had always maintained a pretty ambivalent take on her faith. She believed in Allah, but worship she never considered. Hakima was surprised and thankful that Allah had taken mercy on her and had lifted her worries. Maybe she should try to worship more often.

Her weekender was heavy as Hakima had stuffed it with canned food, clothes and a few books. It would constantly slip off of her leftshoulder as she followed the road with a brisk pace. It didn't bother Hakima, she would just hoist the weekender up again and it would be fine for a minute or ten. The clothes she had collected from both the banditcamp and from the sacked camp alone were giving her a warm feeling. The books, though they were really not deserving the name, she cherished. Even though her temporary reading-impairment was the result of a mental break-down, she wanted to train her reading to keep it in shape. And reading about John Mitchum, MD and his mis-adventures with the female medical staff in a private clinic was actually very entertaining.

Hakima's hand went to grab hold of the bayonet she kept in one of the pockets on her weekender. She was picking up the sounds of a car-engine and it is coming up in her rear. She left the road to walk in the dirt next to it and adjusted her Clint Eastwood-hat to cover her eyes with its shadow. Maybe, the driver of whatever model of car that was coming ever closer wouldn't mistake Hakima for a walker and hit&run. All the same, Hakima hoped they would just pass and drive along. She wasn't ready to meet new people yet.

**2**

"Look, Manny, on the side of the road!"

Manolito Sanchez, 'Dirty' to his friends, had been driving for hours without anything interesting happening. No sign of other traffic, no signs of life anywhere and a sporadic walker sighting. Next to him in the passenger-seat sat a hispanic girl he knew as Conchita Cruz. A few years younger than him, they knew eachother from the East-LA hood they had grown up in. Dirty didn't like the girl much. She was so stereo-typical hispanic it drove him nuts. It had taken him days to have Conchita stop calling him ese all the time. She had this diva-mannerisms and would go 'woah-woah-wooooaaah' when the mood struck her, mimicking those annoying R&B divas. The mood struck Conchita often.

Dirty wished that the girl beside him would just die. She wasn't Whisper. Both Dirty and Hakima finished their service at the same time and both were invited to stay on. Both needed time to think it over and both were returning home to do it. Dirty knew already he was going to sign on for the long haul, if the USMC would accept his request to be transferred to Marine-Recon. He loved being a scout sniper but he also had realised that the people around him over-classed him. He was hanging on and often felt like the others were carrying him. He wanted to change his mos, his military occupation within the corps.

Dirty and Hakima were the best of friends. He had never before met a woman so into what she was doing as Hakima was. He loved Hakima and was in love with her. So much that when they parted in the airport to catch their respective flights, he broke down in tears. Dirty was very well aware that Hakima didn't love him. She loved being his friend and for Hakima it didn't go further than that. Dirty had begged her to rebook to LA and come with him. It wasn't to be, though Dirty was rewarded with a hug and a kiss.

When the outbreak happened in LA and Dirty got ready to escape the metropolis, he sat in his room crying as he realised he would never hear from Hakima again. Dirty was not ashamed of his emotions. He was a hulk of a man, with muscles coming out his ears and a face that rivaled that of Danny Trejo and Charles Bronson rolled into one. People saw him as a hard bad-ass, but he had strong feelings and emotions that stood in sharp contrast to his appearance.

As he was getting ready loading survival goods into his car, he discovered Conchita hiding near his home. Dirty couldn't leave the girl behind and took her along. Now he was living with that mistake and it was driving him nuts.

Dirty needed only to look at Conchita to know what was on her mind. Him. Naked. He shuddered at the idea. Conchita was small and slim, but lacked muscletone and while typically easy to look at, she wasn't of angelic beauty. And her hispanic mannerisms were too much. It was almost as if Conchita had practised it to over-the-top perfection.

Dirty's decision to drive to Georgia was a conscious one. He hoped he would run into Hakima, against all reasonable odds. It was a stupid thing to do, he knew it. At least Conchita didn't bug him about it. She was just along for the ride, biding her time till Dirty would realise she was a woman with needs.

"Look, Manny, on the side of the road!"

Dirty started. He was ripped from his reverie and had been driving largely on auto-pilot. He looked at where Conchita was pointing and saw a small framed figure moving forward with a brisk pace.

"I recognize that ass-sway anywhere.", Dirty said with a voice that that made Conchita's face go dark, "It has to be..."

As they passed Hakima, Dirty couldn't tell if it was Hakima or not. The lithe woman was wearing a hat that covered her face in shadow, but that curtain of raven hair in her face... Hakima sported that look often. Hakima knew what kind of effect she had on men with her hair out of her face. If she had half the chance, Hakima let her hair down to hide her face. It was a defense-mechanism. It only made her mysterious and all the more attractive, Dirty had told her once, but Hakima had scoffed at that.

"Why are you stopping? She could be a serial killer or something.", Conchita said when she realised Dirty was braking. Dirty pulled the hand-brake, "If that woman is who I think she is, then you're right about her being a serial killer." Dirty got out of his car and turned to look at the woman he had overtaken.

"Are you Hakima Gunay, USMC?", he asked with a raised voice.

Hakima took a step back. This was too creepy for comfort. She let go of the bayonet and reached behind her back, going for her pistol instead.

"Please answer. Are you Corporal Hakima Gunay, USMC scout sniper?", Dirty tried again, desperately hoping that he wasn't seeing things that weren't there. What if he wanted that woman to be Hakima so much that he couldn't see she wasn't Hakima?

When Hakima spoke, it sounded confused and uncertain, "Dirty? Dirty Sanchez? Is... is that you?"

Dirty fought against his tears. From now on, he would never doubt God again. Trying to remain casually calm as he took a few steps towards Hakima, he broke down and rushed over to her. Hakima almost disappeared in his big hands as he took her by the sides and lifted her from the ground as easily as if she had been weightless. First Dirty held Hakima at arms-length. That little smile... Those hazel eyes, exotic and crazy making... She was Hakima. Dirty pressed the small woman to his chest, "I thought I would never see you again!"

"Dirty, you're smothering me.", Hakima was able to stammer with some effort.

"I am? Of course I am..", Dirty gently lowered Hakima to the ground, but he kept her hidden in his hands, "I'm just so happy that I found you. I was hoping I would. It's stupid. I just drove to Georgia in the faint hope that I would. What are the odds, right? I-"

"-And now you're blabbering.", Hakima mocked. She gave Dirty a girly punch to the chest, "You really drove around Georgia hoping you would find me?"

"Yes, I did. Come on, let me have it, tell me I'm a sucker for arab ass."

"You're a sucker for arab ass."

Dirty laughed in delight, "Yeah, you're Whisper alright."

Hakima wrestled herself free from Dirty's grasp, "I'm sorry I didn't rebook to LA... Crazy stuff happened in the last two months since the outbreak that wouldn't have happened if I had gone with you."

"Tell me all about it in the car, Whisper. You're coming along and no protests. I finally found you and unless God calls me, I'll have your back from now on."

**3**

Conchita found herself in the backseat of the car. She had protested against it, feeling she had oldest rights, but Dirty was several times more stronger than the girl was. Demoted to the back, she sat their sulking. Dirty and his girlfriend were not even acknowledging her anymore and that stung the hardest.

"So, you killed Jake?", Dirty asked after Hakima had told him about the first weeks after the outbreak.

"Not really... He turned and as he's still tied to the tree. I burried Emily afterall, I felt bad for not doing that earlier."

"And Audrey.., you think you and her could have had a future? It sounds to me that no matter how much proof of walkers you had collected, they would have squinted at it just to see it different from you."

"Yeah... for a moment I thought we could do it. I was thinking that I should place my trust in strangers every once in a while, you know. It gets to be pretty lonely out there. And she was a fresh girl. Open and honest. And smaller than me, which doesn't hurt."

"Man, Whisper, I can't believe you kept on seeing Jake. After that embarrassing scene behind the latrines I'd thought that would've been the end of it."

"It's complicated.", Hakima defended.

"Sure. Complicated enough for me to not get it.", Dirty chuckled, "It's not my business anyway. So, just so I can hear you say it again, you're sorry you didn't rebook to LA?"

Hakima sighed, she knew she would never stop hearing about that confession, "Yes. When I arrived in Atlanta I had already made my mind up. Father would have told me to stay on anyway and after I had seen Jake... three weeks of hanging around in Atlanta with the gang... We could've gotten into some shit together instead. Always wanted to test the LAPD."

"Yeah, they would've loved to chase down two errant Marines looking to ruin their careers, trust me. I can see the headlines, 'Criminal couple taunt the LAPD' or 'Hispanic gang-violence fueled by muslim fundmentalist idealism', Dirty mused with a frown.

"I was thinking along the lines of throwing down some dollars in a booby-bar.", Hakima said, "And then rob a bank."

"You think that you can walk into a LA booby-bar without getting hoisted on stage yourself?"

"Even better, people throwing dollars at me.", Hakima laughed, "Eyes front, boyo."

Dirty automatically looked forward. Just like old times, even though those old times were only less than two months ago. He slowed the car down to a crawl. They were coming up on a small town, but on the road in were two cars and people with kids were standing by them, "Families, afraid to check out the town, maybe.", Dirty guessed.

"Stop here. Let's test the weather.", Hakima spoke while she got her bayonet and pistol, "The diva stays in the car."

"I'm Conchita, thank you."

"Whatever, stay.", Hakima answered and got out of the car as soon as Dirty had brought it to full stop. He turned to Conchita and shrugged, "Just listen to Whisper. That has saved lifes in the past.", and got out of the car himself.

Hakima walked slowly towards the group and glanced aside when Dirty joined up, "Akimbo? Really?", she scoffed.

"It's bad-ass.", Dirty said checking his pistols, "My face and holding two guns... shuts any motherfucker up."

"It's a good thing I know that you're a teddybear.", Hakima mocked, " -snif- -snif- Don't make me kill you -waah-"

"Very funny.", Dirty grunted, "Pay attention, one of them is coming towards us.

The man that was coming over from the cars was tall and lean, sporting black hair that hung almost over his shoulders and a droopy moustache. He was in contrast to his image as a biker, well dressed, yet casually so. As he came closer, both Hakima and Dirty rose their guns.

The man didn't know what to make of the duo. The big hispanic man was terrifyingly musclebound and kept his eyes on the well dressed biker at all times. The woman next to him, exotic... arabic maybe, was so lean trained that her BMI was probably dangerously low. She barely reached her companion's shoulder in height, even with the hat she wore. None of them had the slightest tremble in their guns.

"Don't shoot!", the well dressed biker spoke, "I'm a family-man! I have a wife and a seven year old daughter. You're free to take our things..."

"That's sweet of you.", the woman spoke with a melodious voice, "But how are you going to survive without your things? We have to kill you, it's the right thing to do."

In the car, Conchita's eyes widened in shock, "I don't believe this shit!", she whispered.

"No! Look, the people by the other car are a family too... we just got here ourselves and we want to sleep in one of those houses. But we're just family-men, him and I, we're no criminals like you. There might be biters!"

"Can you believe this guy?", Dirty asked.

"Go with the criminal thing, if we tell him we're Marines, the next thing we know he'll ask us to go and clear a building for them.", Hakima whispered, "Now we can still walk away and-"

"Don't listen to them! They're joking! They're Marines!", Conchita yelled. She had gotten out of the car and was now running towards the man, "They're Marines!"

"Fuck.", was all Hakima had to say about that.

"Fuck.", Dirty agreed.

The man smiled, "That changes everything. Maybe we can strike a deal?


	2. What to say yes to

**1**

Dirty had taken Conchita apart, while Hakima had volunteered to talk to the two families to see what kind of deal they could strike in return for the duo's help. Dirty was not at all in a happy place. Not because he blindly supported Hakima; Dirty had a mind of his own, but because Hakima had been right.

"Why couldn't you just stay in the car? You have to understand that Whisper and I have skills that civilians just don't have.", Dirty said angrily, "As soon as people find that out, we're the ones they turn to, expecting us to lay our lives on the line. And each time we do that, the chance that we die gets bigger."

"Did you hear that loca talk, Manny? She wanted to kill those people!", Conchita said with a flurry of hands to underscore her words, "And why would the chance to die go up each time you help people, Manny? That's... silly."

"Law of probability.", Hakima answered. She had returned to the car, with the biker in tandem, while Dirty and Conchita argued, "You can't do what we do each day and expect to walk away every time. Sooner or later, Allah draws your name from the hat. The less we put ourselves in harm's way, the longer we get to live. It's not cowardice, it's choosing the battles that are in your favor. Dirty and I are scouts and snipers, not general infanterists."

"There you have it.", Dirty grunted while pointing at Hakima, "Straight from the horse's mouth."

"What?", Hakima shot, "Were you comparing me to Sarah Jessica Parker just then?"

"No! I...", Dirty sighed, "Forget it."

Conchita however made a dismissive gesture, "That broken nose isn't talking in your favor, chica."

Fast as lightning, Hakima reached over the car to grab Conchita but Dirty threw his bulk between the two, "Woah, woah! Think it through, Whisper. And Conchita, do me a favor and go practice your Jennifer Lopez act somewhere out of Whisper's reach."

"Aren't all Marines riflemen?", the biker wanted to know.

"Yes, we are.", Dirty spoke quickly to shut Hakima up, he knew her too well, "But that still doesn't mean we are a screaming horde of crazed imbeciles spoiling for a fight. Can I let go of your hair now, Whisper?"

"Don't do me any favors.", Hakima said through clenched teeth. Dirty had firm grip on her hair and it was an unpleasant experience, but she was not about to show any discomfort, "His name is Phillip and his friend is Allistair, a minister. Their wives are kitchen-mavens according to legend."

"You have a way with women.", Phillip observed while Dirty let go of Hakima, "I wish I'd thought of that, would have saved me a lot of arguments with the wife. But Hakima is right, our wifes will cook a good dinner in return for your help. That, and we're not bad company for an evening of relaxing, sharing drink and light conversation."

"And I have claimed a room for us alone.", Hakima added, "I'm not going to try and get some z's in a room with whiney kids."

"Yes, off course.", Phillip said gracefully, "You might consider that icing on the cake."

"Good, I don't want to share a room with a lot of people too.", Conchita agreed and both Dirty and Hakima returned in unison, "Why do you think us includes you?"

**2**

"We're so stupid.", Hakima said with some discontent, "No, I'm stupid. I meet a friend and go along and presto!; I'm looking for a fight with walkers."

"Okay, that's good.", Dirty supported, "Get it out of your system. And promise me that when I wake up tomorrow, Conchita is still alive."

"No guarantees.", Hakima said after she actually had given it some thought. They were huddled near the frontdoor of the first house on the mainstreet through a deserted town called Woodbury. Hakima had her bayonet and Dirty was holding an intimidating hunting-knife. Hakima gingerly tried the doorknob to see if the door was loose. It was and Dirty pushed it open a bit further.

"How are we going to do this? Team it, or split up?", he asked.

"Depending... if it seems empty we split up. Knifes are sharp and I know how you eat with fork and knife."

"Kiss for good luck?", Dirty tried.

Hakima huffed at him, "What have you done for me lately?" Dirty blocked Hakima with his free hand, "If this is about the hair-grab, I'm sorry, okay. I didn't had a lot of options there."

"Okay, repeat after me, we don't touch 'the hair'.", Hakima demanded what rewarded her with a 'fair enough' from Dirty. He peered into the house then quickly went in. Hakima waited a little and then followed, "If this house is empty, I'm going to be so disappointed.", she told Dirty, "If I have to attack something anyway, it's a bit of a downer if that something isn't there."

"Wou know, Whisper,", Dirty started as he moved towards the kitchen, ".., if I didn't know any better, I would say that you're nervous." Hakima found the stairs up and tested a few steps and thought Dirty's jab over, "I think I'm nervous. Your the only person for miles around who knows what he's doing, if you don't count me. And you have a professional eye and as I remember it, pretty high standards." Slowly, Hakima scaled the stairs while Dirty, satisfied that the kitchen was deserted, moved on the the bathroom. "We're not on the clock anymore, Whisper.", he spoke as he inspected the bathroom, "Yes, toothpaste and look at this, Gillette Ultra razors. Since I'm not getting paid for any of this, I'll accept that as a fair offer."

Dirty left the bathroom and look upwards, where he saw Hakima leaning on the guarding. "Empty,", Hakima informed, ".., house belonged to a young family. It's probably better if you don't look in the nursery." Dirty nodded, he knew enough, "You alright up there?" Hakima shrugged dismissively, "Ask me and I say they had the right idea. I won't be long before the last human turns off the lights anyway." Dirty shook his head at Hakima, "Don't be like that, Whisper. Humanity is like a weed, always looking for ways to carry on."

"Okay, Don Quichotte, how do you see the future? Are we going to rebuild? For what purpose would we do that? So we can have politicians, lawyers and taxes again? Or are you still dreaming about you and me and white picket fences?"

Dirty scratched the back of his head, "Damn, I never get to be Don Diego... Seriously, Whisper, why shouldn't we rebuild? There are a lot of things to overcome and it sure as hell won't be easy, but why not? Allowing people to have families at the very least should be doable." Hakima moved from the guarding back to the nursery. In front of the door, she turned again, "Come on up.", was all she demanded.

**3**

Dirty made his way up the stairs and walked over to Hakima, who was blocking the nursery-door with her body, "Did you know that we're on borrowed time merely because we're alive right now?", she asked Dirty. Dirty inspected Hakima's face. It was calm and her eyes had a casual look to them. Taking that as a sign that Hakima was merely trying to find out what he knew about the zombification, Dirty nevertheless played it close to the vest, "All I really know is that getting bitten is your ticket to walkerdom."

"Right.", Hakima lingered on the 'i' and then continued, "If only that was everything. Right now, you're infected. You, me, Conchita, though I find that some kind of poetic justice and those two families out there. We're walkers alive. When we come to die for whatever reason, we turn into what we were all along. Zombies."

Dirty was silent. He had heard of it before, but had dismissed it as hogwash. People, he knew, had a way of mixing truth and fiction to make a new truth, but Hakima had no reason to spin a story to him. "Okay, we have to accept that.", Dirty said, "It's still no reason not to try."

Hakima sighed, "So women should get pregnant again, right? Make babies, repopulate the world, whatever. With the current state of medical help.., do you have any idea how unfair that is to women? Or do you think we'll see it as an honor and our duty to mankind?" Dirty gave Hakima a quizzical look, not really sure where she was going with this, "Whisper, why would getting pregnant and giving birth be unfair. I mean, I'm aware that a man's involvement is about 10 seconds if he's indifferent enough, but that's not something I can really fault nature for, can I?"

Hakima didn't smile, "I'm talking about stillbirth... baby turns and eats its way out of the mother. Or the mother dies buring birth, leaving you as a loving husband to bash her head in. And then you'll have to take care of an infant you can't even breastfeed. Or the baby dies upon birth, that way you and your wife can flip a coin to find out who gets to bash the baby's head in. Fun for the whole family."

"Hakima!", Dirty shot.

Hakima gave Dirty a surprised look, "You called me Hakima." Dirty started to say something, halted himself and paced a few steps. Then he turned to Hakima again, "Damned, Whisper, I knew you're skewed, that's what I love about you the most. But now you're really pushing it." That made Hakima laugh, "Okay, let's play a game called hypothetic question. You have an infant-child, about maybe six, seven months old and your wife is very, very pregnant. So, when the world ends, you and your lovely, very pregnant wife, decide to off eachother. Your wife agrees, but asks you to kill her first, then the baby in the crib and the unborn child in her womb. So, you and your wife go to the nursery, say your good byes and you kill your wife. The wife now dead, you stand there in the nursery and you have the kill the kids.., without the support of your wife. Would you be able to do it?"

"Oh no...", Dirty said as realisation set in. He pushed Hakima aside and opened the door. He froze at what he saw.

"I was hoping..,", Hakima said behind him in the same voice she had been using since she had gotten in the car with him, ".., that you would be able to help out, because like the dead father with the zombie-baby in his arms, I couldn't do it either. And then there's still the abomination who's out of mother to eat, overthere, near the crib.", Hakima scratched her nose in thought and a little, nasty smile came on her lips, "Let me know when you want to start making babies. I might be talked in to it if you bring me enough beads and small mirrors."

Dirty turned around and hooked Hakima full on the jaw. She went down as if her legs had suddenly become boneless.


End file.
